Land of the Wraith King
by Diabowserker
Summary: A band of pikmin have been forced to leave their homeland by a strange threat, but in the land across the sea, an even greater peril awaits. With enemies closing from all sides, do they have what it takes to survive in the land of the Wraith King? Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.
1. Massacre

**Hello, fanfictioners! This was the first story I ever wrote, almost a year ago. Since then, I've learned a lot, and this chapter contains more content, description, and character development than all of this story's original chapters combined! I doubt any of you can remember this story as it was orgianally, and that's a good thing. For those of you who do, sit back and marvel at the improvement!**

A comet streaked its way across a star strewn night sky, leaving a beautiful blue trail behind it, as well as a group of mini-comets that fell behind and disappeared for the most part. The bright glow illuminated a group of green pikmin, reflecting off their weapons and throwing their mottled skin into great relief. An observer could even count their exact number of two dozen; such was the brightness of the comet. Three of the pikmin were occupied with carrying the carcass of one of the dwarf bulbears that were common on the highlands that the green pikmin called home. The obvious leader of the hunting party cast a glance at the sky. He carried an ivory spear, tipped with a rich blue metal called scandium. This was in sharp contrast to the dull green bromine metal of the others' weapons. A white flower rode atop his stalk, as opposed to the leaves on the others. Without looking down, the leader said, "Heath, Ielta, Kinsbur, stash the catch, such as it is, under that boulder, and quickly!" The three pikmin who'd been carrying the carcass hurried to comply. They'd only just finished their task when one of the mini-comets struck the ground directly in front of the small group, unleashing a vicious shockwave, along with a massive amount of heat and hyper propelled detritus across the area. Any other pikmin type would've been killed instantly, but these were greens, and explosions didn't bother them in the slightest. When the dust settled, none of them were the worse for wear. The leader spoke to the three who'd been carrying the catch, "Leave it where it is for now. We'll pick it up on the way back."

The eldest of the three carriers, Heath, spoke up then, "Taran, I think the main piece of the comet landed about three miles east of here. Why don't we go that way?"

Taran shook his head, flower waving. "This is why you're still on carrier duty, even though you've been in my group for over a year. If we go over in that direction, then there'll be no prey, all of it either vaporize or frightened off. Plus, that meteor landed right on the border, in the contested area between our land and the red's."

"Yes, but that comet probably contains ore!" insisted Heath. Taran raised an eyebrow, or at least, he would've if pikmin had eyebrows. Heath became rather tongue tied at this point. Fortunately, Ielta intervened, for she knew Heath well enough to know that he would simply acquiesce to Taran's lead without her help. "With all due respect, Taran, but the last falling star was before even your time. But I've read the inscriptions in the Cave of History. Falling stars were virtual mines of scandium ore, and they sometimes even contained rarer metals, like cerium or neolite. I'd say that would more than makes up for the risk of combat and loss of hunting time." Heath smiled at her gratefully. She had to suppress a grin of her own. She caught sight of Kinsbur smirking out of the corner of her eye. She hit him with butt of her club. Just because it was common knowledge that she was in love with the handsome eight year old pikmin didn't mean that a seven who was four months her junior could make a joke of it behind her back. She turned her attention back to Taran as he said, "Very well. With any luck, the reds won't decide to investigate the crash." The group immediately altered its course, and set off for the edge of their territory. Heath fell back to stand between Kinsbur and Ielta. The latter said, "You need to develop some self confidence, Heath."

Heath looked over at Ielta and said, "I suppose you'd know about that, Ielta. You've twice the confidence I had at your age, and considerably more than I have now."

Kinsbur laughed. "Do you two need a moment?" he asked, mockingly.

Heath shoved him jokingly. "How long will it be until you start annoying someone else?" he asked with false severity.

"About how long it'll take you to stand up to Taran," responded Kinsbur. They continued on like that for a time, always needling at one another. They were so engrossed in conversation, that they didn't even notice the group had stopped until Ielta walked into Taran. Taran said, without turning, "It appears we may be in trouble. A group of reds is approaching. And it's no hunting party. From here, I'd guess that it's a full legion." Heath's blood turned cold. The reds were a highly battle oriented society. They placed great emphasis on their code of combat, and on their own honor. Every red belonged to a legion. According to the histories, the reds had once been a huge collection of warring tribes. They'd eventually forged themselves into a single cohesive whole, but the legions were still organized according to tribe. A legion could be anywhere from a couple hundred to multiple thousands, for the reds had one of the largest populations of all the pikmin types. It was fortunate, Heath reflected, that the red code of honor prevented them from going to war against other nations without an extreme reason. If it were otherwise, then the million strong reds would have annihilated the ten thousand strong green nation a loooong time ago. As it was, there were occasional border clashes over the highly valuable veins of ore that ran through both the highlands of the greens and the cliffs and mesas of the reds. This legion appeared to be around three hundred strong. Taran spoke again, "I'm going to head down to rendezvous with the leader of this legion and see if we can reach an agreement. If negotiations fail, I want all of you to run like hell for Mesa Nero." Mesa Nero was the capital city of the green nation, and the place where the hunting party had come from. Heath had to admire Taran's courage in facing the potentially hostile army of reds all alone. He watched as the leader walked down towards the legion with growing apprehension. If they did not reach a consensus, then Taran would be hard pressed to escape with his life. Ielta seemed to sense his unease and placed a hand on his arm. They waited for what seemed an eternity. Just when Heath had decided they were going to have to run, Taran returned, accompanied by seven red flowers. The one nearest him was immediately recognizable to all present. He stood slightly taller than any of them, and he had a long scar running down his chest. His name was Coalheart Runm, leader of the Coalheart legion, and his name was the stuff of nightmares for the greens. He'd led the somewhat infamous Coalheart Legion in a viscous attack on the border city of Latrel, where Kinsbur had been born.

Something worth noting would be that pikmin can be produced from an onion by a pellet or body, which was the case of about three-quarters of the green population. Pikmin born from the same body or pellet were referred to as broodmates, and they came into existence with a connection to the onion that spawned them. This connection provided them with nutrients, eliminating the need to eat, sleep, or drink. It also provided them with a collective conscious. I don't mean that they were all mindless, with no distinct personalities. They were, however, capable of instantly being seized control of by the onion's massive consciousness. The onions only awakened on occasions of extreme danger to themselves, so the pikmin were very rarely subject to its will. When the onions were threatened, though, the pikmin would fight to the last man to protect it. If a pikmin's onion was destroyed, than there was a decent chance of the pikmin dying with it. Those that survived often went insane, or established a connection with a different onion. There were a few, though, who enjoyed the taste of freedom, and refused to give it up, even though it meant they would have to eat and drink and even sleep if they were wounded. Of the other quarter of the green populace, about half had been juvenile bulbmin found wild and converted via Emerald Candypop Buds. The final eighth of the green population had come from pods. These pods were produced by two pikmin parents, and could contain from one to ten pikmin within them. These pikmin would inherit their mother's color and main attribute, such as immunity to ice and cold for turquoise. They would inherit their father's feature, like noses for reds, and his secondary attribute, such as shockwave for purples. Kinsbur had come from a pod, unlike everyone else in the green hunting party. Both his parents had been green, so it was impossible for anyone to tell that he'd been from a pod by looking at him. Runm's forces had sacked the city, and when the city onion became threatened, both of his parents had died defending it. He'd only been two, but he'd escaped the city and fled all the way to Mesa Nero, avoiding predators and surviving in the wild all the way. He'd established a connection to one of the three Mesa Nero onions when he turned three, and he'd requested a position as a National Guard, and a station at Latrel, which had been recovered the previous month. He'd been turned down, gently informed that the National Guard was only for those who could prove themselves, and assigned to the Hunts. Now, as he stood facing the pikmin responsible for the destruction of everything he'd once held dear, Kinsbur was obviously fighting the impulse to give Runm a face full of his javelin. Heath leaned over and muttered to him, "Easy. If you attack, then we all die." Taran spoke then, and all eyes turned towards him. "We've reached an agreement," he said, "Coalheart Runm will come with us to investigate the sight. Once there, depending upon what we find, we may take whatever we can carry on our backs and leave the rest to the reds." Kinsbur spoke, the anger in his voice obvious. "We have only two dozen among us," he hissed, "The deal is hugely weighted in your favor." Heath heard a sharp intake breath from Ielta and felt her hand clench on his arm. Taran was staring at Kinsbur furiously, his face screaming _Shut up, you idiot! _Runm chuckled, and said, in a voice greatly incongruous to his reputation, "That is true. However, since we could wipe you out with ease right now, I think we're being very kind to give you anything at all. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," Taran quickly said, shooting a warning glance at Kinsbur, who had opened his mouth to protest. He closed it, looking mutinous. The party set off, Runm and Taran in the lead, the rest trailing behind. Though forced to walk together, the reds and the greens maintained an almost complete silence. Kinsbur was trailing slightly behind Runm and Taran, his javelin held in a distinctly hostile position. A pair of reds stood almost directly behind him, weapons in position in case the young green tried to kill their leader. Heath and Ielta followed a few steps behind them, and the rest of the party selected to come spread out in similar fashion behind them. Ielta whispered to Heath, "I bet if someone snuck up behind Kinsbur now, he'd impale Runm without even thinking. He's tense as a cornered dweevil."

Heath nodded his agreement, too concerned about his friend to speak. Finally, the group came to a stop at the rim of a crater. "What manner of evil is this?" whispered Runm in a stunned voice. Taran sagged to one side, shaking his head in horror. Kinsbur dropped his weapon. Heath, Ielta, and the rest of the group hurried forward to the edge of the crater and looked down.

It was instantly clear where the meteor had landed, for there was a gaping hole in the center of the crater, with no bottom in sight. Climbing from the dark maw were pikmin unlike any ever before seen. They were tan in color, with large pale eyes. Riding atop their stems were slender, twisting black horns. Already some thousand filled the crater, and all appeared to be armed. Scattered among the horde were strange devices made of black stone. They had the shape of giant crossbows, but they were loaded with ten massive arrows apiece. Runm spoke, his voice dry, "We have to warn the nations. I've never seen the like of this war machine."

"First, we may have to save ourselves," said Taran, his voice equally dry, "Look." He pointed towards a group of about fifty of the creatures approaching them, still about thirty yards away. (Note: all distances are measured as if the pikmin were human size.)

Runm lifted a heavy, double-bladed battle axe made of scandium from the harness on his back. "We're going to have to hit them hard, knock 'em senseless, and then run for our lives," he said, sounding far more intimidating and inspirational than before. But Taran shook his head and said, "We should try and outrun them first. If we lure them away then we might have a chance of defeating them. Or we could always fail to lose them, and then try your plan." Runm nodded, "Okay." But then a scream of agony drew all heads. Kinsbur stumbled backwards, hands clutching at a disk of sharp, black stone imbedded in his throat. Green chlorophyll gushed from the wound. He stumbled, fell, and dissolved into a green spirit, leaving the disk lying on the ground. Everyone froze for a moment. Then Taran yelled, "Hit the deck!" and greens and reds alike fell flat just in time to avoid a cloud of spinning black disks that whizzed over their heads. Heath sprang to his feet, Ielta a moment behind him. He looked down into the gorge. The monsters had closed the gap between them by half all ready. He turned to Taran and yelled, "There's no way we can outrun them! They'll be here in under half a minute!" Taran nodded and yelled, "Attack!"

Then, he turned and said, "Heath, Ielta, Runm, wait a moment." The three stopped, allowing the others to overtake them, and turned towards him. Taran said, "Runm, you need to get back to the Legion. Look!" he said, cutting off the protest forming in the leader's mouth, "You need to warn the rest of the reds, and they can't afford to lose your legion. I'm going to try and buy you some time!" Runm nodded, and brought his fist to his sternum, the red's traditional salute of highest respect. Then he turned and fled into the night. Taran turned back to Ielta and Heath. He said, in a no nonsense voice, "Heath, give me your spear." Heath handed it over, numb with the shock of his friends death. Taran took the dull green bromine weapon and handed Heath his scandium spear. "Take good care of it," he instructed. "You and Ielta have to get back to Mesa Nero and warn them. I'll do what I can to avenge Kinsbur, but you two have to escape. That's an order, understand?" Without waiting for a reply, Taran turned and plunged into the crater, and into the fight. Heath stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then Ielta grabbed his hand, and they fled off into the night.

**Well, just my opinion, but I'd say this chapter is a hell of a lot better than my previous chapter for this story. Let me know what you think.**


	2. Homecoming

**Hey people, this is Diabowserker, here with another chapter (Although I hope you already knew that****.) Anyway, special thanks to ludlowboy for reviewing and telling me to get on with writing this. I own all the colors not in pikmin 1 or 2, along with every character.**

The ground in front of them exploded, sending Heath and Ielta stumbling wildly as they struggled to stay on their feet. Heath jammed his spear into the ground ahead of him, supporting himself and grabbing Ielta by the hand, keeping her from falling. A trio of the strange tan pikmin rose from the shattered ground, carrying battle picks, and attacked them. Heath blocked one with his spear, ducked and dodged out of the way and then struck one of them a glancing with his spear, allowing Ielta to brain him with her club. The pimin fell to the ground, obviously dead, but did not disintegrate the way pikmin were supposed to upon death, instead just laying there and leaking chlorophyll. Heath and Ielta fell into a combat pattern, spinning sideways and in every other direction. Heath used his longer reach to occupy the tans while Ielta did her best to smash them when they got too close. Both of the tans had just fallen when five more emerged from the hole. Ielta struck one in the leg and hurled him into the other four, and she and Heath sprinted on, struggling to stay ahead. The tans quickly went back into the hole, and Heath pushed Ielta to one side and jumped, both of them narrowly avoiding another hole that opened in the face of the plateau. They sprinted on through the night, struggling to stay ahead of their pursuers. Three times they were caught, and three times they fought their way free. Heath estimated that they were now being pursued by nearly twenty, and he doubted they would be able to hold off another attack. The last one had caught them both unawares, and Heath was now trying to staunch the flow of chlorophyll from a wound in his side. Ielta was also worse for wear, covered in countless minor injuries. As if in reaction to his thoughts, Ielta lost her footing and tripped, crashing to the ground. Heath skidded to a stop to help her up, just as another hole blasted open in front of them. Tans swarmed out as Ielta jumped to her feet. Heath exchanged a look with his friend, and the two of them nodded, knowing that they would die here and now. Just as they prepared to attack, a blood curdling roar issued from somewhere off to the left. The tans only had time to look before they were engulfed by the Coalheart Legion and obliterated. Heath could only stare as Runm jogged over to them.

"What are you still doing here?" the red yelled at them. "Run! We'll hold them back. Get to the mesa, sound the alarm. Warn my people!" Runm turned away from them and yelled, "Coalheart Legion, to me! Let's teach these dirt bleached savages to fear our names!"

Heath and Ielta exchanged helpless glances, then Ielta put a hand on Heath's shoulder and nodded. They turned and set off at a steady jog in the direction of Mesa Nero. They ate up the ground quickly, relatively speaking. They jogged long and hard, exchanging few words so as to conserve strength. Heath's mind began to wander ahead of them, back at Mesa Nero, to his Onion. If he could only reach it, then all his wounds would be healed, and he could deliver this news. And then… Then he'd have a chance to avenge Kinsbur, and hopefully route these savages. _One thing at a time, Heath, _he told himself. There were countless pikmin more accomplished than he, both at fighting, tracking, trapping, and warfare in general. But he would get his vengeance. That had been Taran's promise when he'd been sent back to warn the others. Heath was so lost in thought that he almost tripped when Ielta skidded to a stop, terror evident in her face.

"They're here," she whispered, pointing. Heath followed her finger confused. She was pointing at the Mesa Nero, a large jut of rock about half a mile in the distance. They still had a bit of jogging left to reach there, so why were they stopping? Then Heath began to make out the tan figures rising from the ground two hundred yards in front of them. Heath shot a few glances behind and to the sides, and felt a sinking feeling in his gut. They were completely surrounded.

* * *

Far away to the west, across countless miles of land and sea, Camarus Clawbel rose from his pile of skins and began his morning exercises. He completed one hundred push-ups, one hundred and fifty crunches, did eighty chin-ups on the bone frame of his tent door, and then began the complex series of calisthenics he'd been taught at birth. He twisted his mud-colored body about to a ninety degree angle with the roof, pressed his stem against the ground, and forced himself into the air. He folded his hands together, allowing his bronze claws to extend and retract with his breathing. He closed his eyes and embraced the strenuous excercises. All the while, with his eyes closed, Camarus thought to himself, _Pain is good. Pain keeps you whole. Embrace your own pain, as a substitute for the pain of others. I have the strength to hold my instincts in check. I am a dedicate of the Clawbels and a Devotee of The Koda Kiln. I pledge my life to Talmin Raisa Clawbel and I promise to live my life free of the destruction and violence of the Clawmin. _When his meditation was complete, Camarus walked over to the bone basin at the back of his tent, stretching his lithe body, and reached up to the ornate fanged piece hanging over it. He pricked each of his fingers once and each foot once, allowing the chlorophyll to drain into the basin. The smell of it reached his nostrils, and Camarus closed his eyes, struggling against the wave of passion and hunger that swept over him, the urge to go berserk, to utterly surrender to his animal drive. But he fought the emotion with all his strength, finally suppressing it, leaving himself panting hard. But now the chlorophyll was just that, exuding a slight odor of pine needles, the pain simply pain, and he knew he was in control. He'd been doing this every day for nearly ten years, but there were still days when his animal drive caught him off guard. He ran his fingers over the bone piece hanging over the basin, feeling its skull shaped contours, until he found the small catch that opened the skull mouth. Water flowed into the basin, rinsing away the dark green liquid left over. Camarus closed the skull and rinsed the bowl, then poured the water out and watched the cracked, thirsty ground in his tent drink it in. Within seconds, no sign remained that the ground had ever seen water or ever would again. Camarus walked over to the wooden rack next to his door and began his preparations for the day. He took a blax-hide belt from the rack and cinched it on. He then removed his dartbow from the rack, inserted a dozen white-fletched darts into the loading mechanism, and hung the weapon on his belt. He inspected the claws on his hands and feet, making sure that none were snagged or cracked, before doing the same to his two retractable fangs. Satisfied that all was in working order, Camarus pulled open the canvas flap and stepped out into the scorching sun, ready to begin the day's work.

* * *

Ielta hefted her club, fighting down the fear that threatened to swallow her. She looked at Heath for assurance, only to find her friend on his hands and knees, probing the ground with the head of his spear.

"What are you doing?" Ielta screamed at him, and even to her, the note of hysteria in her voice was clearly noticeable. 'We're about to die, and you're on your hands and knees?"

"Use your head," Heath snapped, sounding very different from the unconfident carrier she knew. "Didn't you wonder why they didn't just burrow up around us? We're standing on blackrock!"

Ielta shook her head, awed despite the situation. No wonder the tans were keeping their distance. Blackrock was highly volatile and used to make bomb-rocks. If you struck it wrong, it blew apart, and violently. Bomb-rocks were made using small pieces of blackrock, which reacted with green's chlorophyll, making it sensitive to pressure instead of strike force. Greens were the only ones who could safely use blackrock or bomb-rocks, since they alone had the opportunity to experiment without getting killed. Little details like this patch had completely escaped Ielta's notice. What was that saying? When the going gets tough, the tough get going? Heath was certainly going. Ielta knew full well she needed to get going also if she was going to survive this. Unfortunately, now that the tans had surfaced, the blackrock wouldn't stop them from covering the two hundred yards to reach them, and they were outnumbered twenty to one, at least. Unless…

"You can't blow up this whole patch, Heath," Ielta said, praying he would listen. "You have no idea how deep this patch goes. If you blow it out, they might die, but we'll probably be crushed under tons of rock, and then there will be no one to warn the rest of the pikmin."

Heath jammed his spear into the rock, sinking it halfway in, and Ielta's breath caught. But Heath only smiled as he pried out a chunk twice his size. He said, in a remarkably calm voice, "Bomb-rocks are pressure sensitive, but we greens can only make ones that are smaller than we are, because after that the bombs own weight sets it off instantly. When our friends," he jerked a finger over his shoulder at the approaching tans, "Get close enough, I'll rub one of the wounds they were so kind enough to inflict against the rock. The blast should kill most, if not all of them, and then we should be able to reach the Mesa."

"But won't the blast set off the rock beneath us," Ielta wondered, "I'm willing to die if I have to, but if it can be avoided, that would be great also."

Heath smiled and said, "We'll find out soon enough." The tans were now within blasting range. Ielta took a firm hold on her club and Heath pressed his sided wound against the chunk of rock. For a moment, the rock glowed white, then a blinding flash illuminated the night. Ielta felt the explosive force wash over her, and for a moment she felt as if she could grow wings and fly, climb any mountain, defeat any foe, but then the blast rolled past her, and the moment passed. She felt something shatter near her hands and she was knocked onto her back. Then the blast ended, and she struggled to her feet, not even slightly blinded from the blast. The blackrock hadn't gone off in a chain reaction, and the ground was splattered with the chlorophyll of tans. No wait, there were still ten tans, although four of them were badly burned. Heath was already in position to engage them, his scandium spear none the worse for wear. Ielta, however, could find no sign of her wooden club. _That must've been what shattered, _she thought dully. So now Ielta had to enter a weapons fight with her fists and stem. Plus they were outnumbered. Not the best odds, but definitely better than they'd been before. Normally, Ielta might be scared to death, but she'd brushed with death so many times tonight that it had ceased to make an impression. She'd die or she wouldn't. Either way, she'd fight with Heath right up to the end, whatever that end may be.

* * *

Atop the highest watchtower of Mesa Nero, Deton looked out on the night, wondering why he was up here. He was off duty, he wasn't equipped to do anything from up here, and he wasn't authorized to be up here any time of day, let alone night. And yet… He couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to be up here. Absentmindedly fingering his long knife, Deton wondered how Heath was getting on. _I wonder if he's off carrier duty yet. _Deton snorted. His brood-brother needed to learn to think. They were exactly the same age, but Heath still acted like a trainee, while Deton had been aged by the events around him. When they were younger, they'd shared everything. But Heath hadn't been able to share his grief and pain. He'd tried, but no one really could. But Deton had learned his lesson; Don't get attached, and you don't get hurt. Deton was only a second year soldier, but he was already a lieutenant and in position to become a captain. Deton put everything into his work, and he had no time for the chatter and friendships and infatuations of his comrades. Besides, when he gave himself completely over to his work, there were times when he could forget what had happened. Deton was jolted out of his thoughts by a flash some half-mile out from the Mesa. All the way up here, it would have to be a good sized blast to appear. This was why he'd come up here. His instinct had always been good, and Deton was sure that what he'd just seen was important. Now he needed to find out why, and if his gut was right, he needed to do it fast. Without pausing to think about it, Deton dove off the tower, falling towards the ground, several thousand feet below. When he was about thirty feet up, Deton pulled a mini bomb from a pouch on his belt and held it below his head. A second later he hit the ground, the bomb hitting a moment before. The blast allayed much of his momentum and Deton rolled, coming up without a scratch. He sprinted out towards where he'd seen the blast, realizing quickly that his haste had been justified. Heath stood a ways from him, carrying a scandium spear. That was a little odd, since Heath's spear was bromine, but now wasn't the time to worry about little details. Heath was working with another green, who was apparently weaponless. They struggled to hold off seven pikmin, although they didn't resemble any pikmin Deton had seen or heard of. Both Heath and the other green were bleeding profusely, and as Deton approached, he watched Heath toss the spear to his ally and smash the tan with his stem before ducking a blow from a battle pick. _They won't last long enough for me to reach them, _Deton realized grimly. With a quick flick of his wrist, he freed his scandium throwing knife and hurled it at the tan Heath was fighting. It struck him in the back, and the tan faltered. Heath smashed him in the head and the tan fell to join three other bodies on the ground. Deton detachedly wondered why the bodies hadn't vaporized as he covered the last few yards and drew his long knife. The other green- Ielta, Deton remembered- tossed Heath his spear as she ducked a blow. Deton jumped to her aid, knife flashing as he gutted the tan with a single flick. It only took a few moments before all the remaining tans lay dead. Deton was breathing hard, covered in the gore of his foes, struggling to hold back memories of that day two years ago… He pulled himself together as Heath caught Ielta, who was now barely conscious, just before she fell to the ground. Both she and Heath were soaked with their own chlorophyll.

Deton said, "Sorry about the welcoming committee, brother. You looked like you could use some help, what with ten on two and only one weapon between the two of you. Let's get you to the Onion, before Ielta dies from blood loss." Deton picked up Ielta and threw her over his shoulder.

"I have important news. It can't wait," Heath said in an exhausted voice.

"It can wait, Heath, until the two of you have been healed," Deton said. _I won't let you suffer my pain, not when you're supposed to be safe. _

**Well what do you think? We added two more characters this chapter, along with a new pikmin types, although, as you'll eventually learn, the mud-colored pikmin are more connected to the "tans" than the other types you've learned about. You can expect six more colors over the course of this story. Also, I'm going on vacation for the duration of spring break, so don't expect any more updates for a while. In the meantime, I'd like it if you guys could take a look at Darkling Tide, although I haven't really started the action in it yet. Don't forget to review! **

**Sayonara,**

**Diabowserker**


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